


Must've Lost Your Wits

by asimaiyat



Series: She Moves In Mysterious Ways [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Angst, Gen, Jen moriarty, Pre-Series, Teenlock, fem!Moriarty, really sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asimaiyat/pseuds/asimaiyat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carl Powers asks her to skive class with him and smoke a joint. Jen says "maybe tomorrow."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Must've Lost Your Wits

**Author's Note:**

> A little backstory for Jen here. Not britpicked, very sorry if I got things wrong!

i.  
Jen's English teacher wants her to try out for debate team.

She says no.

Her chemistry teacher wants her to apply for a summer internship that's normally only open to postgrad students.

She says no.

Her parents want her to make some friends, maybe go to a party sometime.

She says "why should I?"

Carl Powers asks her to skive off class with him and smoke a joint.

Jen says "maybe tomorrow."

ii.  
"It must be so easy for you, being so clever."

She laughs and inhales deeply. After one hit she's decided she doesn't like pot, but Carl's got a pack of cigarettes to share as well, and she's been sneaking those from her parents for ages now.

"Hardly. You know I'm doing work on a post-uni level already? The only thing I like is chemistry. If I want to become a researcher I'll be in school for what, seven more years, and they won't have anything new to teach me the whole time. Sometimes it seems unendurable."

He nods at her seriously. He has a soft, sensitive face, his close-cut hair making him look even younger. "That's rough," he says, and pauses. "Wait, chemistry's the only thing you like?"

"That is what I said, yes."

"What about me?" He pulls a face, playing at being offended.

"Ah, well," she stammers, and then tries on something new: a roguish smile she must have seen in a film sometime. "Well, don't you think we have chemistry, darling?"

He laughs and she feels like she's accomplished something.

iii.

Sometimes she needs to be really alone, more than just the usual alone, and then she goes to her secret place in the woods behind the school, tucked away by the mouth of a little brook. There's a tree with a generous hollow that she likes to hide things in: a box of cigars nicked from her uncle, a postcard from her classmate Alice who moved away years ago, the copy of the Anarchist's Cookbook she photocopied at the local uni library, her butterfly pinning kit that she got bored with quickly but still likes to look at sometimes, photos of some of the experiments she's done with small local wildlife that she can't very well keep around, a few stolen treasures from the chem labs that she knows to store very carefully.

Sometimes she just likes to come here to sit still and try to shut out all the offensive facts of the world around her. The shrink she got sent to for screening once called this "meditation." Her mum calls it "sulking."

Sometimes she comes here and puts her head in her hands and just sobs for no reason, not for the love of any of the dull characters who pass through her world, not for desire to prove anything to any of them. Just for the sheer pointlessness of it all, for the circumstances that keep her imprisoned in this monotonous life.

Her pale face is splotchy with tears, her chest starting to hurt from the sobs, when she hears a twig snap behind her. She wheels around with wide eyes like a prey animal.

Carl is standing a few meters back. He must have followed her. His eyes are wide, too, shocked or scared, but he takes a slow step forward.

"Jen, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," she snaps off crisply, managing the adenoidal consonants with a bit of work. "Please leave me alone."

He takes another step and oh how she wishes he wouldn't. It isn't too late, he could turn back now and forget the whole thing. But he won't.

"It's not fine, Jen, you're crying. Here, come here, let me take you back to school, you can lay down in the infirmary a bit." He reaches out his hand, close enough for her to take it, but she doesn't.

"Let it go, Carl."

His eyes look soft, hurt for real this time. He stands still like he isn't sure which direction to move in.

She finally, finally finds the strength to pull herself up and brush the dead leaves off her knees. It's easier if she doesn't look him in the eye while she says "I'm _fine_ , Carl. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to be on my way to the science lab. I've got a project to take care of."

iv.  
Well, everybody's got to start somewhere.


End file.
